


Bright Hearts and Not-So Gentle People

by Pervymonk



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff, eat your heart out bob crosby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:11:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5548622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pervymonk/pseuds/Pervymonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mama Murphy predicts the F!SS's love interest</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Hearts and Not-So Gentle People

“The night’s been dark, especially since you’ve woken up,” Mama Murphy says. Clara sighs, setting down her tools to brush her hair out of her face. She needs to cut it but she can’t bring herself to-hasn’t been able to bring scissors anywhere near it. Nate used to bury his face in her hair, running his fingers through it, and-

                “Mama Murphy?” she questions. She hopes the old woman is just trying to make conversation, and that this isn’t the prelude to one of those unnerving visions. Clara hasn’t given Mama Murphy chems-she refuses to do so, but the old woman seems to get her hands on them all the same.

                “You’ve had a hard time seeing the stars, the lights,” Mama Murphy says. Clara looks at her face closely, sighing at the unfocused and cloudy look in her eyes. “The sight told me so.”

                “You don’t need the sight to see that I’ve had a hard time of it,” Clara says irritably. She turns to face the old woman more completely. “Mama, I thought we talked about your chem use.”

                “His heart doesn’t beat, but it’s bright all the same,” Mama Murphy says, ignoring Clara’s comment. She holds her hand out to Clara, withered and shaking, and Clara takes it in hers with a sigh. She gently squeezes the old woman’s hand, covertly checking her pulse with her thumb. The pulse beats erratically, like it’s speeding toward death, and Clara idly wonders which chem will be the one to kill her. Psycho, she bets-the old woman’s heart is probably too worn out to take the high.

                “In Diamond City, you ask and you ask, but people’s hearts are chained up with suspicion,” she continues. “But you find it. You find that bright heart that is gonna lead to you to your boy. And so brightly it shines against the dark alleys it walks.”

                “A bright heart in Diamond City?” Clara repeats. “Well, that is suitably cryptic.”

                “This bright heart is a man, but not the man you’ll expect,” Mama Murphy continues, her voice far away. “He is down deep in the dark, surrounded by nothing except cruel intentions. But his bright heart won’t dim.” Mama Murphy lunges forward and Clara grabs her, scared she’s passing out. But Mama Murphy holds her with a strength Clara didn’t think her aged, frail form was capable of.

                “The bright heart will shine for you, Clara,” Mama Murphy says gravely. “All you have to do is follow his light out of the dark.” Mama Murphy slumps against her and, for a split second, Clara fears that she may have died. But the old woman’s breathing is steady, if shallow. Clara yells for Preston to help the old woman into bed, and forgets the cryptic conversation until a couple of weeks later, when she finds herself in what used to be called Fenway Park. God, Nate had loved the Red Sox, even if they hadn’t won a game since 1918 up until 2077-the Bambino curse hadn’t been broken before the end of the world. Nate loved them for the principal of the thing-Boston had been his home, and he was always convinced they’d win eventually. She blinks the tears from her eyes, and enters the market.

                She asks and asks, but the hearts of the people of Diamond City are chained with fear and suspicion. In frustration, she wanders into an alley and bangs her fist against the wall of concrete cinderblocks. The sun sinks in the sky, and she hears the alienating, familiar crackle of electricity powering on. A soft red light illuminates her face. The first thing she notices is the bright heart of the sign, fixed next to the words “Valentine Detective Agency.”

                “’The bright heart will lead you out of the dark’,” she whispers to herself, and goes to knock on the door, the first step of finding the bright heart.

                Mama Murphy’s words echo in her head as she fights her way through Vault 114. She unflinchingly puts a bullet in the guard in front of the Overseer’s office, trying not to think about how she no longer lost sleep over this sort of thing. A rough, gravelly voice urges her to the terminal to open the door, and when it slides open she sees something she didn’t expect. Silver skin peaks out from underneath a dirty, faded trench coat, and bright yellow eyes stare at her from underneath a black fedora. She laughs softly, more out of surprised exasperation than malice.

                “I know I’m funny lookin’,” the robot-the man says with a grin. “But ain’t all antiques?”

                “No, no,” she says reassuringly. “You just aren’t the man I expected.”

               


End file.
